


Better

by ljfanfiction



Category: The Killing
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-14
Updated: 2018-08-14
Packaged: 2019-06-27 08:07:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 973
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15681405
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ljfanfiction/pseuds/ljfanfiction
Summary: Reader is happy to find Bullet at her apartment after a long day.





	Better

Your small, crappy apartment wasn’t much, but it was home now, and with the heavens currently _emptying_ on Seattle, you couldn’t wait to get back to it. Your day had been so tiring, and hard on your feet, and to top it off, you were now soaked from head to toe; but you couldn’t help but be more concerned about someone else.

When you, and Bullet became friends, you made sure that she knew that she was always welcome to stop by, and that she had a place to sleep if she needed. After finding her sat outside your apartment door on several occasions, you gave her a key, so that she could let herself in. You were always happy to find her sat in front of a nature documentary, or reading a book, while she waited for you to return, and this evening especially was no exception.

On opening your front door, you were met with the blue glow of the ocean emanating from your television, and a small, familiar girl listening intently, as the narrator explained shark hunting habits. She raised her hand in welcome with a “hey,” when she heard the door open behind her, and flashed a smile in your direction.

“Hey,” you greeted, sighing in relief at being out of the rain, as you pressed your back against the door to close it. “I’m glad you’re here, the weather’s so _bad_ out there.”

“I'm just gonna go, and get dry,” you continued, making your way to your bedroom for some dry, comfy clothes, and a towel for you hair.

“I’m gonna make you a hot drink,” Bullet announced, rising to her feet, and heading to your tiny kitchen area.

You insisted that she didn’t have to—after all, she was _your_ guest. Surely this should be the other way round—but she wouldn’t hear it.

“Hey, you let me crash here whenever I want. S’the least I can do when you’ve had a bad day.”

“You’re such a gentlewoman,” you replied in thanks, placing a hand over your heart, before disappearing into your room; and she really _was_. More people could stand to be more like Bullet—she had such a good heart, and a charm that was uniquely her own, and it made it hard not to be drawn to her, and her company.

When you returned to the living area, Bullet had settled back into her place on the sofa, drink in hand, and the one she had made for you on the coffee table in front of the space next to her.

Pyjama clad, with the warm mug in your hand, you had collapsed onto the sofa, relieved to _finally_ be off of your feet, and ready to fall asleep in front of the sharks with your friend, when she—almost _shyly_ —posed you with a question—

“You really like it when I’m here?”

Bullet wasn’t afraid to be loud; to make her voice _heard_ , and get the answers she wanted; so hearing it ask so quiet, and hopeful, and genuinely curious... this went deeper than just knowing that she was welcome in your space—that was established. This question was more _intimate_.

“It’s just... _better_. Knowing that you might be here when I get home makes me happy; and… when you _are_ here, I know that you’re okay,” you admitted. Bullets reality was so _uncertain_ , and she... she deserved to be somewhere safe, and warm, with someone who cared about her, and accepted her. That place didn’t necessarily have to be with _you_ , but you _did_ hope that she felt that way when she was here, and judging by the change in atmosphere, and the shy smile on her face, she _did_.

You weren’t sure who made the move, but you could feel her chapped lips against yours, and a warmth spreading inside you that had nothing to do with the drink in your hand. Your sleepy state coupled with Bullets gentle nature kept the kiss at a slow pace, even as your bodies shifted closer, and your hand grazed up the arm that Bullet had thrown along the top of the sofa behind you; but it came to a halt completely when she pulled back.

“We can pick this up another time,” she suggested, after considering the fact that you’d probably rather rest. She didn’t want to take up anymore of your energy.

“I think I have just about enough energy left for you,” you hinted with a smile. “If that’s what you want.”

“ _You’re_ what I want,” she affirmed. Not just sex— _you_. To show you how she felt; to give that intimate care to your body. She considered it a privilege that you were making yourself so vulnerable to her.

With Bullets declaration, you took the mug from her hand, and placed it on the table along with your own, being met with her leaning back into you, when you reclined back into your seat, your now-free hand cupping her cheek, so you could pick up where you left off. You were _closer_ now, Bullets torso flush against your own, and her tongue sweeping into your mouth, her kiss remaining soft, and slow, as you keened, your heart thudding as she smiled against your lips, and pulled away for the second time.

“Come on,” Bullet sounded, standing from the sofa, and bringing your hand to her lips. “The couch is no place for a princess.”

**~**

As you laid facing each other, tucked up in your sheets, Bullets fingers stroked your hair, as her eyes traced your features.

“You’re really beautiful,” she softly mused aloud, and while you’d had all kinds of attention from her just moments ago, you couldn’t stop your face from tilting away from her gaze, as a bashful smile crept across it. “Don’t go shy on me _now_.”


End file.
